Page 41 of Stick Handled

She hesitates, her expression flickering between defiance and uncertainty. She’s not stupid. She knows what I’m doing—baiting her, pulling her into a game she won’t win. And it’s working. There’s no thrill quite like watching her come to pieces; every thought she tries to cling to crumbling under the weight of my stare.

Her next reply is short and cautious, as if she’s not even sure she means it.

Avery:I’m not hiding

Me:Then prove it. Or keep clinging to that towel.

I see her chest move up and down rapidly as she struggles to make a decision. Her gaze lifts, and for a heartbeat, we’re locked in a silent standoff. The challenge hangs between us, thick and electric, a single misstep away from unraveling completely. And then, as if she’s making a decision she can’t take back, her fingers tighten around the towel, her breathing quick and shallow.

She doesn’t move but doesn’t look away either.

Me:You know where to find me, little liar.

She looks up at me, eyes wide. I simply cock my head to the side, motioning to my front door.

Me:Come here, Avery.

I let that sit, watching her reaction, the way her eyes flash with something close to panic mixed with excitement. And then, after a long, agonizing pause, she steps away from the window. I keep watching as she comes back into view, dressed in a satin sleeping set and fluffy slippers. She throws one last look at me and slips out of her door.

I walk over, turn on the dim lights, take the remote for the automated curtains, and with a click, they begin to slide toward each other. I pour another glass and wait, heartbeat steady until I hear the hesitant knock at my door.Good girl

A thrill runs through me, dark and exhilarating, as I open it to find her standing there in her sleep shorts and tank top. She came. She actually fucking came. All I want to do is fall at her feet and tell her how brave she is, but I force myself to stay put, plastering on a small, knowing smile instead.

She looks up, caught between excitement and caution, her chest rising and falling in quick breaths.

“Changed your mind?” I ask, my voice low, the weight of each word pressing on her.

Her cheeks flush as she tries to look away, her fingers fidgeting by her sides. But there’s nowhere to go, nowhere she can hide now that she’s here, standing on my threshold. She came to me. No more running.

I reach for her wrist, pulling her inside before she can react. She lets out a slight squeal, and the door clicks shut behind her. The sound reverberates through the room, loud against the backdrop of soft music, sealing her fate. Her breath hitches, and when I don’t let go of her wrist, she looks up, her eyes flickering with nervousness and thrill. She’s in my space now, under my control, and I have no intention of letting her leave.

“I didn’t think you’d actually have it in you,” I murmur, my voice dipping lower, darker.

Lies. I knew.I knew that fire hiding under there wouldn’t let her resist.

She swallows hard, her eyes meeting mine, but she doesn’t move. And then, as if she’s gathering every last shred of courage, she speaks.

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.”

I smile at how wrong she is.

The words are brave, but the way she’s trembling betrays her. I can feel the barely controlled tension in her, in the way her breath stutters every time I draw her closer.

“Oh, I know exactly who and what you are,” I say, my hand sliding to her lower back. I can feel the sharp inhale she takes, her pulse fluttering against her skin, and it’s everything I can do not to pull her in and press my mouth to the curve of her neck, to taste every ounce of her hesitation and her thrill.

And then, I do exactly that. I let my head dip lower, my lips brushing her neck, and she shivers, her hands instinctively reaching out to clutch my shirt.

“Damien,” she whispers in a protest that’s weaker than her voice.

Don’t you Damien me, baby. You chose this.Time to claim your prize.

Her fingers tighten, her breathing rapid, and it only drives me harder, darker, until I can’t hold back any longer. My lips trail from her jaw to her neck before I pull away to take one last look at her before I devour her whole.

She’s looking up at me, eyes wide and lips parted. I study her face, taking in every silent plea she’s too scared to voice. But she doesn’t have to speak for me to know what she wants because it’s exactly what I want as well.

I lean down, capturing her full lips. Everything around me goes dark, and all I feel are her soft lips on mine. Her gasp is muffled by my mouth, my tongue sweeping in to taste her. She tastes of the sweetest sin. She stiffens for a moment, then melts against me as she surrenders to the kiss. I deepen it, needing more of her, my mouth turning fierce and consuming. Her guard shatters as her hands fist against my chest, pulling me closer as if the need for control has vanished.

Her kiss is electric, sparking through my veins like wildfire.

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